[ has he bit off more than he can chew? probably not! Eddie's a determined young man, tyvm.
he's good at games, isn't always the best at hiding glee when he wins. but every other game he's ever played has had at least two people who have seen each other. can read each other's body cues. have heard one another speak. it's going to be a challenge, but he wouldn't be Eddie if he didn't dive right in. so, dive he does.
he doesn't do subtle, but he also does not immediately throw those blunt questions out at strangers, not before the start of the show. not at the break. no, it takes a couple beers and some shots of liquid courage to bite the bullet of propositioning some random guy. which, is what he does since, ya know, he guesses wrong. and funny story, this dude's all for it. just his luck, right?
there's a little sigh, but he wasn't lying when he'd alluded to being primarily fine with blowing random guys. he's really leaned into his sexuality and sex drive in the city, so. either way, he goes off and ends up with an appropriate photo. kinky fucker being all into this exact scenario.
but Eddie doesn't send it right away, just salutes the guy goodbye and carries on his merry way, finishing off his duties for the evening before he heads back home with Juliette. one rando dick sucked is enough in one day.
the next show is a similar set of circumstances. he's turned down once, twice, giving that whole spiel, hearing the man from his misfired text's incorporeal fucking non-voice ringing in his ears before he pulls up to someone else, opting to be sober as the day he was born, a touch more forceful. and, there it went.
not the right guy. not sir, but he gets another one of those photos, and so, with a hoarse throat from gagging, he sends off both of the pictures from right there where he's kneeling on the bathroom floor. just like that damn imagery that had been painted.
the photos are similar enough, except for his expressions. and a slight wardrobe change, but nothing too dramatically different. his outfits for shows trend to his usual look: metalhead from the mid 80's. he can follow direction, orders, so he's kneeling in both, jeans clearly tight from his straining cock. his tongue's out in both, covered in come. in the first photo, one eye is winking, a lot of oomph and attitude in the picture, as if he's internally flashing devil horns. the second, he's a touch more somber, a touch put out at this point from being bad at the game already.
he doesn't consider that he could've sent the first one the day before, that this guy would've been in the bar (right? this isn't some fucked up joke, is it?) and saw him go off with someone. but, he hadn't really felt like jerking off in that moment anyway, agitated that he didn't get it right on the first go. now though, he doesn't want to ignore his cock. ]
You're turning out to be pretty fucking elusive. You sure you're even coming to my shows?
text ★ un: mordor
he's good at games, isn't always the best at hiding glee when he wins. but every other game he's ever played has had at least two people who have seen each other. can read each other's body cues. have heard one another speak. it's going to be a challenge, but he wouldn't be Eddie if he didn't dive right in. so, dive he does.
he doesn't do subtle, but he also does not immediately throw those blunt questions out at strangers, not before the start of the show. not at the break. no, it takes a couple beers and some shots of liquid courage to bite the bullet of propositioning some random guy. which, is what he does since, ya know, he guesses wrong. and funny story, this dude's all for it. just his luck, right?
there's a little sigh, but he wasn't lying when he'd alluded to being primarily fine with blowing random guys. he's really leaned into his sexuality and sex drive in the city, so. either way, he goes off and ends up with an appropriate photo. kinky fucker being all into this exact scenario.
but Eddie doesn't send it right away, just salutes the guy goodbye and carries on his merry way, finishing off his duties for the evening before he heads back home with Juliette. one rando dick sucked is enough in one day.
the next show is a similar set of circumstances. he's turned down once, twice, giving that whole spiel, hearing the man from his misfired text's incorporeal fucking non-voice ringing in his ears before he pulls up to someone else, opting to be sober as the day he was born, a touch more forceful. and, there it went.
not the right guy. not sir, but he gets another one of those photos, and so, with a hoarse throat from gagging, he sends off both of the pictures from right there where he's kneeling on the bathroom floor. just like that damn imagery that had been painted.
the photos are similar enough, except for his expressions. and a slight wardrobe change, but nothing too dramatically different. his outfits for shows trend to his usual look: metalhead from the mid 80's. he can follow direction, orders, so he's kneeling in both, jeans clearly tight from his straining cock. his tongue's out in both, covered in come. in the first photo, one eye is winking, a lot of oomph and attitude in the picture, as if he's internally flashing devil horns. the second, he's a touch more somber, a touch put out at this point from being bad at the game already.
he doesn't consider that he could've sent the first one the day before, that this guy would've been in the bar (right? this isn't some fucked up joke, is it?) and saw him go off with someone. but, he hadn't really felt like jerking off in that moment anyway, agitated that he didn't get it right on the first go. now though, he doesn't want to ignore his cock. ]
You're turning out to be pretty fucking elusive.
You sure you're even coming to my shows?